One Groovy Day!

because i am forgiven

2008-06-20T05:56:00.001-04:00

Catch Up Time!

2008-06-19T19:52:00.004-04:00

The last few weeks have been rather whirlwind. I could have written;I should have written. I just couldn't write. Not in the least. I think that I spent a little too much time in an introspective mode. Questioning my every move. I'm an idiot.

Good news though, I'm a happy idiot! Seriously. A very wise person once told me, "It's all just stuff and crud, Hon, don't let it get you down!" I am so glad I married a counselor.

Something really especially cool happened a few weeks ago that literally changed my life in a matter of seconds. I finally took my sorry butt to an audiologist and was tested. I have had a hearing loss my entire life, but I have somehow managed to cope. Now, I'm not sure how. I choked back tears when I had them programmed and put them on. I had NO idea of all the sounds out in the world. Seriously. I am still in complete awe...and every single night when I take them out, I am so thankful that I have them as I am suddenly thrust back into my world of semi-silence. It was a quiet and depressing world.

I really was seriously affected by my loss but just thought I was an introverted baby. I have avoided most phone conversations (you can't read lips through a phone!), backed way out of involvement with people because I hated always having to ask people to repeat everything, my self-confidence was non existent. NOT anymore!!!!! I feel really empowered and a lot stronger. I love talking to people again and don't WANT to be by myself.

I still do get a little overwhelmed with all the sounds and I am so used to being able to block out stuff, my brain gets very tired. I find myself going to be exhausted. All the literature I've gotten my hands on says that this is a natural step in adjustment. I have also had to relearn to pay attention. I hear stuff, but it doesn't register because I never even tried to hear it before. Again, natural and will be overcome.

Here's a picture of one that is very similar to mine. Mine is flesh colored though.

And this is what they look like in my ears...these aren't my ears though...my are much cuter! ha ha ha
Pretty cool, huh? I do have to continue to have them adjusted. It's incredible as the audiologist is able to super fine tune the different frequencies. Oh, and I have the open canal type because my low and a small amount of my high frequency hearing is okay...but for the most part...my hearing totally sucks. BUT, this model allows me to be able to use my own hearing for those sounds that I can hear without the full ear feeling. Oh, and another cool thing..I totally don't understand it, but somehow they are able to adjust the frequencies to the point where I am hardly EVER bothered my tinnitus any more. Cool huh? There is some technical reasoning for this but I would completely botch the explanation. So for now, just accept that I have amazing bionic ears that no longer ring in 3 distinct tones 23 hours a day. Cool!!!

Enough for now!

Role Reversal At It's Best (or Worst??)

2008-05-31T07:54:00.003-04:00

Apparently, I am not nice. That bit of information was shared with me from kids. Yes, those beautiful, gifted, and seemingly NOT intelligent kids* told me that I wasn't nice yesterday. Not just yesterday was I not nice, but apparently I'm never nice. Ever. Let me explain...

Yesterday morning at 3:30 am I woke the said children up and encouraged them to get ready, clean up their rooms and jump into the van. The insane hour was simply so we could avoid the heat in a 6.5 hour trip to the Atlanta area. Anyway, they all obeyed and the actual leaving was smooth. I had a smile on my face and great hopes for the trip! I felt adventurous-brave! All was well until we actually drove out of our subdivision 5 feet. Yes, literally 5 feet. I was jolted from my idealistic dream and thrown into reality....quickly. How you ask? With these 6 words,

"Mom, Reed is...,"
"He started it!"

I was faced with 2 options, either ignore the situation or deal with it strongly and quickly. I chose for the latter. This is where the statement of "being mean" comes in to play.

Parking the Kia Sedona abruptly, I turned on the interior lights and with fire shooting from my eyes I bellowed:

"If I hear one more word out of your mouth that is NOT nice, when we arrive, you are going to wish you had never opened your mouth."
(I know what you are thinking, that this is why I am mean. Apparently not. It was the statement that followed...)

I addressed all the passengers in the car:

"Now, understand this- we will NOT be stopping every hour to go to the bathroom. We will stop again when the van needs gas and then EVERYONE will go to the bathroom...NO MATTER WHAT. Period. NO unscheduled stops will be made unless in the event of an extreme emergency. Period. Don't ask. Just don't."

That really doesn't seem that mean to me. Just because their Dad stops every hour doesn't mean I have to. Right? My oldest son informed me at that time, that in MOST families, the mom was the nice one on the trip and the dad has the go, go, go! attitude.

I didn't know that.

It might be a biblical manhood versus womanhood issue. I'll have to check.

Anyway, to make a long story short, the kids said that they all knew that I was the mean one on the trips and that Dad is the nice one. Apparently that is why they volunteer to go to the grocery store with him and not me. Something about the candy aisle?

There's a candy aisle?

I didn't know that.

Just Because I Can

2008-05-29T00:07:00.002-04:00

Not feeling the greatest right now...headache and burning eyes. SO, I shall leave you with an adorable picture instead. Enjoy this Wonder Wom-pug!

What Russel Crowe, EEyore and Nerf Guns Have In Common

2008-05-27T20:17:00.008-04:00

the most wasted of all days is one without laughter. e.e. cummings

~University of Chicago studies show a great sense of humor can add an additional 8 years to your life

~pre-school children laugh or smile 400 times a day, however, that number drops to only 15 times a day by the time people reach age 35.

~people smile only 35% as much as they think they do.

~laughter releases endorphins into the body with the same exhilarating effect as doing strenuous exercise.*

~every time you have a good hearty laugh you burn up 3 1/2 calories.

I have a tendency to be rather Eeyore-ish. If I am not careful I can become flat and pessimistic. Flat meaning lifeless. I think it's because I think deeply and privately. I know for experience that it is dangerous to stay that way for too long.

I need my Eeyore times to recharge after being with a lot of people for a length of time or if life gets really stressful. My time allows me to be able to reflect, to digress and to digest life. During that time I am usually categorizing things in my mind. It's how I function. Sounds slightly insane I am sure...but it's not. I am quite sure many people do the same ritual, they just don't analyze it as much. It's my hobby. Yeah I know, I need a new one.

Once I spent a day Eeyore-ing around because I couldn't follow a discussion on Quantum Physics. I was sure that I looked like a deer in the headlights and that REALLY bothered me. Heck, if I don't understand something, I like to at least PRETEND that I get it! But, dang, this caught me off guard. The really ridiculous thing about it is that I was the one who started the conversation. I suppose I should have thought through who I was talking with and chosen someone a little less, um, how shall I put this, "less geek-like." Seriously. I thought it would be fun to discuss a heady subject with people who had done research in the area. What in the world was I thinking. I think my contribution to the entire subject ended up being something about how Russell Crowe was a Quantum Physicist in the movie A Beautiful Mind and he really sounded intelligent!

So, I spent the day muttering under my breath about how I must really be a dingbat because I couldn't contribute much to the conversation and how I should have at least pretended or smiled or nodded or SOMETHING while standing there. What's ironic is that as I was shuffling around and muttering I had a striking resemblance to Russell Crow's character in A Beautiful Mind. Hmm...

I think my honey's response to my disturbance was an all out belly laugh. He poked fun a little and then I lost it. I just realized how ridiculous I sounded and started chuckling which turned into an all out -laugh so hard that you almost pee your pants-fest. I have developed a great ability to laugh at myself--practice makes perfect.

Laughter is excellent for those tense moments in marriage, too. We have found an excellent tool for at home counseling when things are getting difficult. It is fairly inexpensive and is guaranteed to help every time. Simply buy 2 Nerf dart guns, go out side, hide behind things and run, scream and shoot the heck out of each other. It is FANTASTIC!!! We believe in it so much that when we give wedding gifts, we ONLY give Nerf guns with a nice little note of explanation. Everyone we have given them to has thanked us for them later and agreed in their usefulness.

A side perk is that if your kids are old enough...it's great fun to gang up on them. It helps reduce stress AND shows them that Mom and Dad are always on the same side.

Go ahead...laugh a little.

*Studies have shown that an good hour of love making with your spouse can burn up to 400 calories!!! Woo Hoo!!!

Scandalous!

2008-05-26T19:56:00.004-04:00

Starved of personal relationships because of our intimacy with our tv's, marriages are plagued by porn, affairs and lack of communication. How can we eradicate this devastating epidemic?
GET the dang tv out of your room people!
It's not that difficult. Parents everywhere are terrified because they can no longer "relate" to their children.What is a parent to do?
Unplug the stupid box!
TALK to your kids. It's really not that painful!
Personally, I am filing for divorce. I know it's extreme, but sometimes you have to be brave and do the right thing. I am tired of having a one sided relationship, of feeling empty after giving hours of myself. Other relationships I have are showing signs of starvation and I have neglected too many people. I have had it! I refuse to submit any longer. So yes, I am filing for divorce. I am divorcing the television and I am going to work on the relationships I have been blessed with. No more watching tv at night in my room. I choose to watch my husband. He's cuter anyway!

Singleness vs. Coupleness

2008-05-26T12:09:00.005-04:00

Main Entry: single
Part of Speech: adjective
Definition: Without a spouse.
Synonyms: fancy-free, footloose, lone, sole, spouseless, unattached, unmarried,
unwed

I got married during my first year of college. I really wasn't ever "single" as in adult "single." For that I am thankful. Dating sucks. Seriously. I have watched my sisters, friends and even enemies in agony over adult relationships gone bad. Glad I missed out on that. But even so, at times I wondered what it would be like to be single. Now that my hubby is living in Atlanta working at his new job and the rest of us are waiting rather impatiently to sell our house, I am experiencing "singleness." I am spouseless, at home anyway.

As I stated earlier, it sucks. First of all, there is no one else to make the bed, blame for the water on the floor, or for me to grip about toothpaste in the sink too. It's not quite as much fun to utter under my breath to myself. Seems kind of ridiculous to me.

Another thing I have discovered that truly sucks is not being able to say, "Don't ask me, ask your Dad." Now, they can call, but it doesn't work quite the same way. I like to use that statement as a diversion hoping that he will get to be the bad guy so Mom can look innocent. Now I have to answer all the questions and I can't read in peace. How annoying!

I have discovered as well, that though it was fun at first to have the king sized bed to myself, it is rather lonely now. Seriously, it's lonely not to have someone to get in bed at night and snuggle with. If I get up to go to the bathroom, no one asks, "What's wrong?" I miss that. I miss you.

In just a few more weeks this transition time will be over and we will all be living under the same roof again. I can't wait. I am tired of this singleness. I look forward to "coupleness!"

Main Entry: couple
Part of Speech: noun
Definition: Two items of the same kind together.
Synonyms: brace, couplet, doublet, duet, duo, match, pair, two, twosome, yoke

Psalm 115:1 (NIRV)

2008-05-25T08:58:00.000-04:00

Lord, may glory be given to you, not to us.
You are loving and faithful.

I am an idiot.

2008-05-25T08:46:00.004-04:00

I just signed up for an internet class called The Lord's Table by Setting Captive's Free. It's an internet based Bible study addressing weight loss. I am an idiot because I never saw the connection between my spiritual life and my food issues.

I discovered something today....drum roll please.....(my family should NOT say...gee...really?) ...

I am a certified control freak. I don't trust other people's driving, I have difficulty trusting other people's decisions, I am cynical (because I am not in charge..or I would have done better.) I am a brat. The sad thing is..I guess I was really blinded in that though I knew I had trouble trusting people, I never realized that I really struggle with trusting God. It's one thing to state it...it's another to really mean it and to live it. I trusted Him..just not completely. See..I'm an idiot. Like I thought I could do better? Sheesh. Seriously, what was I thinking?

I don't understand why I have such a hard time trusting..but I do. I am not going to blame it on childhood "issues" because, though I know they are a part of me, they aren't all of me...and they don't control me now. The thing is..I guess I'm a lot more like Eve than I thought.

Here is a sample of one of my answers to a question posed on the study....I don't need to state the question, you'll get the gist of it regardless...

I just can't believe that I've been blinded by this for so long. I am a pastor's wife for crying out loud. I counsel others yet, I don't listen to what I have told them. I guess I just haven't really surrendered completely to him. It has always been more of Jesus is my co-pilot...I was afraid to give up control completely.

It's ridiculous ...because I KNOW. it's not how i want to be, but i am so afraid of giving up control. i am afraid to trust. so scared. but logically i know that God won't let me down.

why am i so scared?

Now do you see why I am an idiot? Please pray that I can die to self. Seriously. I don't want to be in charge anymore.

The Family Van is a Living History Museum.

2008-05-24T22:15:00.005-04:00

Our van is a living diary. At any moment, you can slide open the side door and within about 3 minutes, you will know exactly what our family has done in the last week. Or, if you're hungry, you can snack on a stale french fry, or some crunched up crackers. If you're lucky, you'll find a half empty bottle of water. Yummy.

I really don't understand why the van turns into some sort of a dumping zone. Well, I suppose it's because it's really difficult to open a door, exit the van AND carry the trash. I mean, something has to go, right? Obviously we can LIVE in the van...though there is enough to sustain a person for days.

Tonight I reached my limit. I decided that enough was enough and that OUR family wasn't going to drive around like that ANY more. Nope. So, I did what all families do and grabbed a gigantic lawn and leaf bag and headed out to the driveway. I opened the front passenger side door and promptly removed 4 drinks from the drink holder, a bag of "garbage" from a local fast food joint, a smallish library of books, a plethora of cd's and of course, about 6.3 pounds of various papers. Whew....the bag was about 1/4 full at this point. I slid open the side door and tackled the back. No small feat let me tell you. Apparently, I didn't know it, but our youngest boys like to keep several complete outfits in the van, "just in case." I am thinking they were hoping for some sort of impromptu vacation by the volume of unpacked luggage.
I also discovered that my boys like to collect wrappers. They aren't choosy, all wrappers are fine for their collection. Among their collection I found: crayon wrappers, fortune cookie wrappers AND fortunes, a dust jacket to a book that we don't own, pixie stix wrappers with some gunked on "pixie stix" powder, about 9 packages worth of gum wrappers, an energy drink can, personal size container of Pringles, several water bottles that had the wrappers separate as well as the lids, several packages for Happy Meal toys, and a can of frozen orange juice that wasn't exactly frozen any more. Okay, the OJ wasn't theirs, but it wouldn't have surprised me.

At this point the bag was 3/4 full. I walked to the other side and found much of the same. Only THIS time I found a box of Trivial Pursuit cards. Doesn't EVERYONE have Trivial Pursuit cards in their family van? I suppose we keep them in there just in case we're stuck at a LONG stoplight. Regardless, I am sure our family could kick just about any one's butt in Trivial Pursuit.

After the van was emptied, I took our oldest son to the car wash with me to vacuum out the van and to was the car. Sounds simple, eh? Well, the super duper strength vacuum does suck well, but it just has tiny holes with which to suck, so you end up spending precious minutes picking the wrappers and pennies OUT of the vacuum hose. After several dollars in quarters, we finally finished. Then we headed to the automatic car wash. Simple enough. We read the sign and it clear posted the poor man's car was at $5, I counted out the quarters and drove up to the auto teller. I was stunned, the teller said $6 for the poor man's wash. Apparently car wash people are skilled and taking innocent patrons. They tell you it's one price so you forge forward into the wash and then they stick you with a higher price. I imagine that most people could simply back up and exit the wash. Not me. I somehow managed to maneuver the van in such a way that I was stuck. Anyway, I had enough to make up the difference and I drove into the wash and surprisingly the wash was uneventful. BUT, with the poor man's wash you don't get the super powered blow dry. That stinks. That is the coolest part.

Now the van sits in the driveway. It looks slightly sterile. No junk in it, you can't write your name in the dust on the dash and you have to eat before you enter as you can't count on the stale fries anymore. It looks good. We decided to reinstate the old rule about not taking anything into the van or eating in it. I wonder how many hours it will last this time?

Idealist/counselor

2008-05-20T20:11:00.002-04:00

So I took this personality test. The results astounded me. I am in the idealist category...counselor. The Write up on the counselor is actually incredibly accurate.

The Counselor (INFJ)

Counselors have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others, and find great personal fulfillment interacting with people, nurturing their personal development, guiding them to realize their human potential. Although they are happy working at jobs (such as writing) that require solitude and close attention, Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries. Counselors are both kind and positive in their handling of others; they are great listeners and seem naturally interested in helping people with their personal problems. Not usually visible leaders, Counselors prefer to work intensely with those close to them, especially on a one-to-one basis, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes.

Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that Counselors are flighty or scattered; they value their integrity a great deal, but they have mysterious, intricately woven personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.

Counselors tend to work effectively in organizations. They value staff harmony and make every effort to help an organization run smoothly and pleasantly. They understand and use human systems creatively, and are good at consulting and cooperating with others. As employees or employers, Counselors are concerned with people's feelings and are able to act as a barometer of the feelings within the organization.

Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way. Counselors are highly intuitive and can recognize another's emotions or intentions - good or evil - even before that person is aware of them. Counselors themselves can seldom tell how they came to read others' feelings so keenly. This extreme sensitivity to others could very well be the basis of the Counselor's remarkable ability to experience a whole array of psychic phenomena.

Part 1

2008-05-20T11:00:00.000-04:00

Part 1

Sometimes I wonder...
how I even turned out fairly "normal" considering my childhood. I've spent too much time over the last few weeks thinking dragging up memories of my childhood. In some ways I have been in denial a LONG time about some experiences and how they have affected me. My darling hubby describes me as a boiling pot with a lid on it. That's not an anger analogy at all, more of a personality one. Little streams of steam escape, but for the most part I hold a lot in. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Maybe control? Maybe fear? I don't know and doubt I'll ever know completely, but in the mean time, I will blog.

My hubby advised that I write about my childhood. Starting from my earlies memories on. I think it will be therapeutic in that to me, if I see it on paper, I can deal with it and be done with it? I'm not sure that makes sense, if it's logical, or if it's just plain stupid. All I know is that it is the most wonderful feeling to have a super supportive husband in my corner!
So, I will begin with my very first memory.

I remember being about 3 years old and getting my diaper changed. I mostly remember the diaper pens that were used. They were blue ducks! I loved those. I remember my dad letting me hold them while he changed my diaper. I also remember a bottle that I had. It, too, was blue and had a clown face on it. It was kind of creepy, but I loved it and my grandma bought it for me. My mom would scold me about biting the ends of the nipples off. She really got frustrated with me. I remember my sister unclogging the nipple on my bottle with a sewing needle once. I also remember my mom asking if I wanted a 'cokey ba', which was just as it sounds. Coke in a bottle. Lovely. Now keep in perspective that at this time, sippy cups weren't used and lots of kids had bottles when they were 3 simply to save parents carpet.
I had THE best blanket ever. It was made out of "sheet" material and had these funky 60's blue and green turtles on it. I would hold it between my two middle fingers and suck my thumb. I think I sucked my thumb forever. Well, at least until I was in Kindergarten. My sister would put nail polish on my thumb hoping it would make me quit. It didn't. I don't know for sure, but I imagine it was peer pressure that finally caused me to quit.

I really don't remember too much about the preschool years except that I had stomach aches a LOT and had tonsillitis and ear infections constantly. My dad would take me to see Dr. Ramsey,who would give me a shot of penicillin and send me on my way. He had that cool ugly drinking bird thing in his office along with those story Bibles with the slightly unhappy pictures of Jesus. Dr. Ramsey had Mike Mulligan and his Steam shovel there, too. I loved that book! I would read it all the time. I was an early reader, probably out of boredom.

It was during my preschool years that my mom started having "issues" with her health. I don't really remember her ever being home. I remember visiting her in the hospitals and I even can taste the coke that came out of the machine at the Charleston Memorial hospital. They had the cool little ice squares there. I would just sit around and watch everyone cry. I usually couldn't see mom unless she was able to come down to the lobby, but I don't think she did that more than a handful of times. I don't think my family wanted her to. She was diagnosed as manic when I was maybe 3 years old. I don't remember for sure, but she scared me. Her behavior was totally erratic but my sister was good at escorting me to the back of the house when things were strange. She also took me for a LOT of walks. That was a lot of responsibility for a preteen.

For at least a year, I went to daycare as mom was in and out of institutions/hospitals and really when she was home, wasn't able to care for me. My grandmother lived 20 minutes away and she spent and incredible amount of time with me as well. God Bless her. She was incredible. I hated one daycare that I was at. It was just around the corner from my house. Huge house, beautiful yard, nice lady but nasty kids. She had really neat toys there. Once I brought my Pillsbury dough boy doll and the kids all laughed at me because I had colored on him with blue ink. I cried. I was always pretty quiet at daycare, mostly because I couldn't hear (ear infections) and because of the freaky things going on in my life. After a while I started going to my oldest sister's husbands grandmas(that's a mouthful) during the days. I don't remember much but that it was boring.

My dad worked at the University at the time, was working on his masters and doctorate and was also teaching extension classes. That translates into -I don't want to be home at all. He was so unhappy. He left for a while. I vaguely remember that. It happened during one of my Mom's insane moments. That was swell, Dad takes off and leaves kids with crazy mom. Great.

I guess I should describe some of the things that my mom did, at least that I remember clearly. For one thing, she was addicted to whatever psychotropic drug she was on at the time and liked to mix it with alcohol. Great. She was physically abusive at times to my one of my sisters.I remember my mom sitting on my sister's back screaming and yanking on her hair, slapping away. My dad was in the back of the house. He liked it there.

My mom would often do odd things when she was tripping, like once she was screaming at the top of her lungs and taking everything out of the hall closet and flinging it at my dad. I stood there watching. My sister came and took me outside, but I remember my dad just sat there and cried. I felt sorry for my dad.

When I was 4 I had a full blown panic attack. I remember it like it was yesterday. My grandmother had picked me up from kindergarten and my cousin was visiting so she decided to take us to the city park. She always did fun things like that. (My mom was in the psych ward at the time.) Well, she took us across the street to the Stop and Go quick market thing and bought us some of those rainbow drinks. You know, the kind in the little plastic barrel type bottles with foil peel-away lids. Anyway, we took them to the park and started to drink them. At this time I was having a lot of stomach aches and even migraines that were a result of stress(gee wonder why?) and as I took my first sip, my stomach felt a little queasy. Not too much , but I immediately panicked that I had been poisoned. Crazy--but my mom was always putting thoughts like that in my head, not just warnings but really going over the top. I started shaking uncontrollably, couldn't breath and was really hysterical. My poor grandmother felt totally helpless and called my dad. He came home and I remember when he walked in the door he had the saddest look on his face. He just sat on the couch and rocked and held me. As a parent now, I understand that look to be one of regret and fear. I know he felt awful about everything that was happening. Anyway, I had a lot of irrational fears as a child. I was terrified of being alone. I was terrified of the dark. Scared of being poisoned and the list goes on.

I know many of my fears were directly related to my families favorite pastime of watching scary movies on the weekends. Vampire movies, big foot movies, slasher movies. Nothing a child should be watching, and especially not a very very young child. But there is a reason for that I think. My parents were tired of parenting by the time I came along. They weren't really interested playing with me, or really I wonder if they forgot they had me. I came along 9 years after their last child and they were 37 when I was born. I don't consider that old, but they had been through a lot I guess, and they were just old in their behaviors. Or maybe they were just more interested in their wants and desires than raising another child. Whatever the reason, this still really bothers me today. Stupid , but it does. I don't remember EVER playing a game with my parents. My sister taught me some card games, but they weren't really interested. They never played with me period. My dad would rock me and watch tv. I spent most of my time planted in front of the tv watching Sesame Street, Electric company, Mr. Rogers, Captain Kangaroo and a plethora of HannaBarbera cartoons. I watched by myself. Alone. As usual.

When I was 5 my grandma showed me a trick to coloring in the lines of a coloring book and she spent lots of time with me developing my artistic abilities. My mom was a very accomplished pianist as well as an incredible painter, but she wasn't interested in showing me anything. She would shoo me out of the room if she was painting. I would sneak into the closet where she stored her paints and just fondle them. I loved everything about them, the smell, the feel of the tubes and the messy-ness of them. She didn't like me messing with them, so I only did it when she was asleep. I remember the smell of mineral spirits and turpentine as she cleaned her brushes. She had this glass jar filled with brushes of every size and shape, but I couldn't touch them. They had poison on them. I could die.

When I started Kindergarten that was a glorious day. I was so excited. My dad took my picture out in the driveway. I had a fresh haircut-thanks to my sister, and a Minnie mouse dress and ribbons in my hair. My teacher was amazing. Her name was Mrs. White and she let me paint and color to my heart's content. I missed a LOT of school that year. Probably 1/2 of the year due to illness. Chronic ear infections, tonsillitis and runny noses. My parents were both chain smokers and we had a house full of pets. I was allergic. They didn't make any personal changes for my health. They just gave me medicine. But I was a smart kid and learned a lot, I was already reading and was writing very neatly. I didn't do well in some parts of school , mostly the listening to the headphones and following the directions part. I couldn't hear. (ear infections-hearing loss)I learned to cope by copying what the other kids did. As a result of not hearing, I was quiet in school. BUT I did love to please my teacher. She was full of encouragement.

I loved playing with the kids. I never had any friends over, either because my parents wouldn't let me, or the other parents didn't like their kids at our house. I did have kids in the neighborhood to play with and I'll write about them later. School was an oasis for me, but at the same time, I hated it. I was scared of what would happen at home when I was gone. I was afraid my dad would leave, or he wouldn't be there. I liked to just disappear into the tv and live in my own little cocoon that I had spun for myself. a Great self-preservation techniques at 5, huh?

I lived about 5 blocks from my school, Mark Twain Elementary. When the weather was nice I would walk to school with some of the neighbor kids. I would cross 2 streets and managed fine -at 5. Sometimes my mom picked me up from school, sometimes my grandma, sometimes my dad, but a lot of times I walked home. Many times alone after I waited in front of the school for half an hour and no one came. The school understood and the secretary would just send me home-alone.

School life was the same in 1st grade. Only I walked to and from nearly every day, in spite of the weather. I enjoyed it. I talked with my friends. But when it was snowy, I remember feeling so sad because I was walking all alone. I spent nearly every weekend with my grandma. She would pick me up on Friday and my dad would come and get me late Saturday night or Sunday afternoons. In 2nd grade my life changed dramatically. New kids moved into the neighborhood and they were great playmates so I was outside nearly every day playing with them after school. However, on October 18th, 1977, my grandmother was killed in a tragic car accident. I lost my grandmother, who was about the only normal thing in my life. I didn't understand it at all, but I was sad. Thankfully, I had my friends to play with.

My grandmother's death changed my mother's life dramatically. My mother became kind of catatonic. She lived with us, but was completely lifeless. My aunt came and stayed a month to help with the transition. My mom was just in such a deep depression. It was awful. My aunt was cheery and fun and a lot like my grandma. She made me a terrific Halloween costume to wear that year and tried to keep life as normal as possible for me and my sister, who was 15 at the time. ( I should add that my 2 oldest sisters are 15 and 17 years older than me and both were married at 18. I don't have any memories of them living at home at all. When they were home, they weren't home. They were busy at school. )

Sadly, my aunt left in November and then it was awful. My mom went back into the hospital again. A new disorder now. Agoraphobia. No more leaving the house. She had anxiety and panic disorder, too. After my aunt left, she took me with her to the store. We shopped and had all of our groceries in the cart, but when we were waiting in line, my mom flipped out and we left the store immediately. She didn't leave the house after that unless it was to go to the psychiatrist in Springfield.

Having a mom who won't leave the house, and most times won't leave the couch, changes your life even more. I didn't think it could be any more odd but it was. I had maybe 3 friends come over to play all during elementary school. The rest of the time I played outside with the kids in the neighborhood or they had me over to their houses. I loved going to my friends houses. Did you know that their moms actually made snacks for them and talked to them? Lots of the moms even played games with us! Heavenly!

When I was in 2nd grade, still just 7 years old, I had and awful migraine. The school nurse called my dad but he was teaching a class and they couldn't get ahold of him. She called my mom. My mom said she couldn't get me. She just couldn't bring herself to come. She told the secretary to have me walk home. That was the longest trip home I ever had. I could only open 1 eye, I was nauseous, sweaty and just wanted to lie down. I finally made it home. I told my mom that I might throw up and she had me sit on the kitchen floor with a bucket. I puked , slept and felt great. But I was hurt. I felt sort of abandoned.

My life continued very much the same way all through elementary school. The kids knew my mom was weird. She didn't ever come to any school function - EVER. She never came to a Christmas program, concert or anything. My dad came if he could get out of his classes. He tried so hard to be mom and dad , but he was still trying to escape into his job. My dad took me shopping, my mom tried to order me stuff out of catalogs - she wanted to be involved, I really think she did, at least for a while. The only time she was really involved in my life or interacted with me was when she would surprise me with clothes from Penneys catalog or something from the Avon lady. The Avon lady was the only person who ever came to our house besides my grown sisters and their husbands. She also liked to interact with me by having me get her cokes to drink and helping with dinner. By myself. No real interaction.

About 4th grade she started to come to life a little. It wasn't good. She screamed and yelled constantly. She nit picked and argued with everyone. She slapped and screamed at me daily. Lovely. I was starting to grow to really dislike her. I quit viewing her as a mother, and more as a lady on the couch who yelled. She did do 2 things around the house. She would cook supper and do the laundry. But not all the laundry, and not mine after I was in 4th grade. She was a good cook!

It was about this time that I really started getting embarrassed about my family, and mad. In 4th grade I had tubes put in my ears and my tonsils and adenoids out. I was in the hospital several days. My mom wasn't there. My dad was with me every step of the way. I loved my dad. I felt like we were both victims of my mom.

I was embarrassed about our house. It was piled with junk everywhere. Animals everywhere. Cigarette smoke poured out of the house. I remember telling my mom that smoking was bad for her health. She told me to shut my mouth. We didn't have flowers outside anymore and the house started to look drab and sad. Just like I felt.

The few bright spots I had were that my oldest sister came to visit on the weekends often. She would spend time with me. She felt guilt that I was there. She took me everywhere with her and her husband while she was in town. She started having me come for weekends in 4th grade. My dad put me on a plane at our little county airport with my sister and sent us off. I loved staying with her. She was the mom I always wanted.

My sister at home by this time was a senior in high school and spent all her time with volley ball at school and then with her horse and 4H after school. My parents never went to her games. I went once with my friend and her family. I was so proud of my sister. Her life was just sort of passed over, too. But she had outlets, which were life savers for her.

To be continued....

Part 2

2008-05-20T10:53:00.001-04:00

In my early school years many things happened which I truly WISH I could forget. As I said, there were finally kids in the neighborhood to play with. Some were my age, some a little older, and some a lot older. For the most part we played role playing games like Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, some space game and we played a TON of kickball. I was blessed in that my neighborhood had a small wooded area, "the woods," that we loved to play in. It was truly picturesque. Beautiful wildflowers in the spring and summer months, fallen logs became our forts and hide aways, and a few small trails that just led thru but made us feel adventurous. Most of the time the play was very innocent. Unfortunately, some of the time it wasn't.

disclaimer-this is very difficult for me to write, but I have to- for me.

You know how sometimes kids play doctor? Well, a couple of the kids really , um, got into it. I was always the patient. I guess I was gullible or lonely or whatever, but I just played along. I don't know that I knew it wasn't right, I just wanted friends to play with. It was better than being at home. As an adult, I can truly say that the two kids who instigated it were brother and sister and they must have had awful stuff going on at home to even have some of their "games" come into play.

When I was 5 I went to their house to see if they could play, as they only lived a few houses down. No one was home but the dad and he invited me in to watch Mr. Rogers with him. He asked me to sit on his lap. I don't want to be graphic, but he obviously enjoyed having me sit on his "special seat for little girls" as he so sickly put it. I didn't think too much about it, I concentrating on the tv, out os self preservation I guess. I tried to go, but he asked me to stay until the show was over. He asked me if I wanted a Horsy ride and then proceeded to bounce me up and down on his special seat. When the show was finished, he was too. He told me it was our special secret and I believed him. I don't remember a whole lot after that, other than the fact that the siblings still loved to play doctor.

I had a special friend during those years, too. He was a teenage boy, who used to play with me. He was sort of my hero. He would play fun games and he made the mean boys quit picking on me. I adored him. Everything was fine until he started hanging out with a new boy that moved in next door to him. Suddenly our play changed. I didn't understand, I craved his attention. The other boy asked me to go on a hike in the woods with them. I jumped at the chance! How fun would that be! We "hiked" the trails and pretended to be camping. The other boy said he had to go to the bathroom and proceeded to go right in front of me. Then, he asked me to kiss "it." I immediately told him that was gross. But then my special friend asked me to touch his friend. I did. I don't remember what happened then. Probably nothing. All I know is that my special friend didn't want me around anymore. I imagine because he was scared. I am glad now, but then I was crushed.

Interestingly enough, those incidences were built upon when I was a little older. I guess because of what I was exposed too I was probably a little too aware of my sexuality, if that makes sense. All I know is that the above incidents along with what happened next really caused a lot of difficulty in my preteen years through the first part of my marriage.

My parents were not really interested in protecting me from things on tv. I guess they were too selfish to want to watch something that was appropriate. But, when I was 10 or 11 years old, I watched Porky's with my parents. Do you have any idea how much nudity is in that show? Why was I watching it with them? I became very aware of feelings and sensations at that time. Those images really formed how I thought men and women related for a long time. I really thought it was all about seducing men.

Now, I never acted on those things at all, but they surely permeated my thought life.
I so wish that I would have had someone to help me through those beautiful years of blossoming womanhood. Someone to share with me about what sexuality is like between a man and a woman. But somehow, I struggled alone. Embarrassed and angry.
I think in my thought life, that somehow, someday if I acted out what I was reading about, someone would love me and shower me with attention. Sad, huh?

I don't really know why but it seems like I was always bombarded with friends who were struggling with the same issues. They always thought they were showing me something "new." I remember a book a girlfriend showed me that was full of fantasies, mens fantasies. It was sick, I had to read more. As I grew older , she talked to me about those fantasies. I just thought about them, she started living them out.

At the same time , in my early teens, another friend was, what I would call hypersexual. It was all she talked about when we were alone. I was always quiet. I didn't want anyone to know all that I knew,or thought. I wished she had never been my friend. I won't go into detail, but several incidences again impacted me for life.

Fast forward to being old enough to date. By then, I was curious about a lot of things. I started searching for " family" since I didn't have it at home. Thankfully, I didn't run to boys for attention. Instead, for what ever reason (God) I ran to church. I was curious about God , but felt he was completely distant, and detached. But, some seeds were planted. Unfortunately, a certain cult was very attractive to a lone young teen searching for acceptance and love. FORTUNATELY, after being a part of this church for a short time, I realized it was crazy and asked to be excommunicated. I was harassed for a long time, but I stuck to my guns. I was still curious, but wasn't really actively searching.

I am not an endorser of evangelistic dating, but I can say that I am a result of it. I met Jesus when I was a junior in high school and gave my life to Him. That made a huge impact on my life.

I was still struggling with thoughts and images but I didn't just think it was wrong now, I knew it was. I prayed for it to just go away. It didn't I have struggled with it ever since then. I am victorious because of Christ, but it isn't easy. Somehow, by God's grace, I was a virgin until my wedding night. I don't know how, but I am so thankful. My innocence was stolen from me at a very young age, but physically, my greatest gift to my husband was still mine to give when we married.

Everyday I am bombarded with reminders of the past, but I just thank God for protecting me and allowing me to be able to share today.
Surprisingly, there is still more to share, but again, I will wait for another time. My prayer is that people with be real and honest about their struggles , that they will share with someone close to them. Especially women. I know women battle with pornography just as much as men, but they are silent. Be courageous women.

Someone once told me...

2008-05-20T10:52:00.001-04:00

Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Someone once told me

that it is best to not think about the past and just move forward. I don't know about anyone else, but it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to not think about the past. Every single day, EVERY SINGLE day I am reminded of things I have done, of things done to me, of things that I wish I had done.

Now, please understand, I don't dwell on them at all. But the truth is, my past is a PART of me. It played a part in shaping me into who I am, but it is just a part. It is why I struggle to this day with thoughts, memories and images that are, truthfully, embarrassing. Thankfully, I can always run to God and he somehow gives me the strength to turn the thoughts off. But the thoughts don't disappear. The channel just changes.

I remember a time when I was a young teen, preteen probably, that I truly wondered if I was a lesbian. Not because I thought of women in that way, but because of the pornography. Surely I must be if I enjoyed reading it? I would just beat myself up emotionally and feel such remorse and guilt. Then the process would start over again.

It makes me mad. Mad. Mad that my parents didn't know about the "incidents" with the neighborhood dad and the teenager. How could they NOT pick-up on it? Mad that my parents were so self-consumed to watch what they wanted in front of a small child. Did they WANT me to struggle? Did they really think it wouldn't matter? They just didn't think , PERIOD.

I find it so bizarre that I have these feelings of anger and hurt, and then I go and visit my Dad and my heart just breaks for him. It is so sad to see him suffering with Alzheimer's. The anger just melts away. I do love him. Dearly. And somehow, some day I will be able to resolve these feelings.

Guts

2008-05-20T10:51:00.001-04:00

Wednesday, May 30, 2007
GUTS

sharing this part of my life is really difficult. I am not exactly sure why I feel the need to continue writing about all of this...except that I really feel a need and I really feel God's leading.

I know there are other people in the same boat-similar boats- floating around looking for an anchor to drop or a dock to tie up on. All I know is that the ONLY thing that will keep you from floating is Jesus. Period. To know that despite all, He loves me.
To know that I can handle any thing for it will never be more than I can bear.

I am really tired of the local church being truly silent on the issue of pornography. I know lots aren't, but mine is. Well, it is addressed in passing from the pulpit, but no one wants to get truthful, honest, and completely open about it. Are we afraid? Sin is ugly. But ignoring our bothers and sisters in Christ who may be struggling is a travesty. Seriously. Get you head out of the sand church.

there...I said it. Enough for now.

What we do differently

2008-05-20T10:50:00.001-04:00

My hubby and I started talking today about the things that we are already and will do differently with and in raising our kids. I always feel like I am fighting tendencies to be like my mom, so I am constantly evaluating (I WILL stop Darin-I promise!). Anyway, I am compiling a list that hopefully I can continue to add to. Here it goes.

We play games with our children -- my parents NEVER played games with me-ever.

We always take our children into consideration when we watch TV -- my parents watched what they wanted regardless of the rating...and regardless of my age. Slasher movies at 6 aren't a good idea!

We talk WITH our children not TO them -- 'nuf said.

We are goofy and joke around a LOT -- I don't remember that EVER happening

We pay attention to our children's gifts and talents and help them to be all that God wants them to be -- Um--no spiritual discussions--talents--um, they were too busy with their own crap.

Bethany says, " You're sane!" -- funny

We create fun experiences and trips for our children -- um, I went to the psychiatrist with mom and dad.

We try our hardest to help them feel safe and secure -- slasher movies at 6.....um, not feeling real safe.

We respect our children as individuals -- my mom was completely annoyed that I was around.

When my children graduate from high school we WILL make a huge deal out of it -- my mom didn't attend my graduation, my dad stood in the stands and when it was over, yelled down, "We're leaving." Gee--thanks. My friends parents congratulated me.
....

There are many more, I just can't think....but I needed to post this. It's a great reminder for me. Our kids are healthy, well adjusted, love the Lord, and love people. What more could I ask for?

Not a Victim

2008-05-20T10:48:00.001-04:00

Friday, June 1, 2007
Not a Victim.

I have been meaning to post this for a while, but was waiting for the right words. So here it goes...(if it's a little jumbled---forgive me...it's late for me and my brain is getting foggy!)

As a child and young adult, I experienced a LOT of pain. I have every right to call myself a victim-but I'm not. No, I didn't choose to be molested, emotionally and verbally abused and suffer the repercussions of it all. But, I didn't fold. I am here and am a living testimony that God can heal all things.

I could have been molested more violently, but I wasn't. I could have not had the sense to understand that the verbal and emotional abuse in my home wasn't normal, but I did. I could have gone down a much worse road with pornography, but I didn't. I could have been sexually promiscuous, but I wasn't. I could be full of bitterness and hatred, but I'm not. I could have chose to repeat the cycles, but I didn't. Can you see the pattern? It doesn't make sense on the surface...but the truth is...it makes sense because God was with me through it all.
It's really not about me, it's about God. His power, His strength and His might.

There really isn't any other explanation as to why I didn't, except to say that God's hand was and is still very much in my life. And, even if something more horrific had happened, I would have still been victorious because Christ paved the way for me-all the way to heaven. We were never promised that this life would be perfect, quite the opposite actually, but for whatever reason we think we tend to think that we deserve to live a pain free life. I have chosen to use my pain for the sake of the Kingdom.

If my life and story can ever be an encouragement to even one person, then it has all been worth it. I'm not going to pretend and say that I understand it all because I certainly don't-but I don't have to. I can rest in His arms knowing that He knows! Yeah, sometimes I wish God would just write out His entire for me because I tend to be a little impatient, but you know what? I am really starting to enjoy this ride! I can honestly say that I'm having the time of my life.

Thank you God!

Some asked me today...

2008-05-20T10:46:00.001-04:00

Sunday June 3, 2007

Someone asked me today....

"How do you forgive and forget?" Good question! I hope my answer to her didn't sound flip. In thinking about this a little more today I still believe the same thing- I can't forget, but I can forgive. How did I forgive? Long story short....

With my parents, I believe it was in me being an adult and seeing them vulnerable. What I mean is that when I saw my Mom struggling with her memory and trying to piece her life together while she was living in a nursing home, I feel like I actually saw my mom. She honestly didn't remember ANYTHING about my childhood. It was a sort of clean slate as I knew she was being honest. Truthfully, it's the same with my Dad. When I take him to his doctor appointments he has to rely on me for absolutely everything. I know that he loves me and he trusts me. I guess that's why. I just push the past in the past. Doesn't really make sense, does it?

Sometimes I wonder if it's because I feel vindicated...something bad to me...something bad to them-but I don't think that's it. I think I just honestly reached a place where I decided that I was going to forgive. Easy? No WAY! But easier than having a bitter heart. Maybe it's because I've just grown that much in my faith to know that I was blessed regardless of my circumstances? Maybe it's because I just need to move on. Maybe it's because it's the right thing to do. It's probably everything.

Forgetting is a little different.

I can't forget, but I don't replay my memories as a victim any more. I replay them and can truthfully see God's hand in my life. Probably sounds scripted...but it's true. I also just don't dwell on things. I have too much to be thankful for in the here and now that I just don't want to waste my time with things that I cannot change anyway. Yes...again...I had a crappy childhood and as a result struggled with a lot of horrid things...but dangit...I am a different person...and you know what? I REALLY like me. Seriously. I really do.

Yep---I'm pretty quirky, and yep, I probably have some scars....but being scarred and quirky means I'm alive and I have survived some nasty battles. I am thankful. Period.

Just in case you were curious...

2008-05-20T10:45:00.002-04:00

Some interesting tidbits about moi!

~ I cannot and will not eat meat with bones in it...IE chicken, pork chops, steak...anything...
only boneless for me.

~ I can't read enough. I usually have 2-3 books going at once-all different genres.

~ I love to play the piano

~ I have a Yorkie-chi named Gidget, but affectionately known as Woobert--don't ask why.

~ If money were no object and I had all the time in the world, I would want to be a neurologist.

~ I am the youngest of 4 girls. My sisters are 9, 15 and 17 years OLDER than me.

~ I have but one show that I MUST watch....and that is Doctor Who

~ I love to cook but can't stand grocery shopping.

Anyone who says...

2008-05-20T10:42:00.001-04:00

okay...I am starting this with a disclaimer......sometimes it's painful to write but the necessity is drives me to continue. My hubby told me to write and not to worry about any one's reaction...so don't say I didn't warn you!

Anyone who says that marriage is easy ~ they never argue ~ everything is perfect...well, they are lying. Plain and simple. Anytime, and I do mean ANYTIME, that you have flawed sinful people in a confined environment, you are bound to at least occasionally have temper flairs, miscommunication, hurt feelings and times of disappointment. If we were all perfect, marriage would be perfect.

I can't complain, as I mentioned a couple posts back, as I have been blessed with an incredible man of God for my husband. Is our marriage perfect? Far from it, but we agree on the important things.

Several years ago things were a little different. We had some big issues, but we just didn't talk about it. I suppose that talking would have been admitting that we were less than perfect, that our marriage was less than perfect. Through a lot of tears and pain, we have learned how to truly communicate and we have learned a LOT about grace.

We were married young. I was just 18, nearly 19 as I always say. He was just 21. We met in the most unusual way. I had just started my freshman year of college and was active in my church. Out of the blue one Sunday, a man came up to me and asked me a question that completely changed my life.

"Would you be willing to write a lonely soldier in the Army? My stepson is in basic training and could really use some encouragement."

I suppose I felt I had nothing to loose. So, I went home and promptly wrote a nice little note to him. The standard you don't know who the heck I am. Blah Blah Blah. I wrote a little about me and my family and my future plans. I invited him to write back if he wanted. Much to my surprise he returned a letter the following week. We corresponded back and forth for 2 months, and then he came home on emergency due to the death of his grandfather. He called me up out of the blue and asked if I would like to go out on a date.

Talk about scared to death. I had NO idea what he looked like but I had learned that he was funny, intelligent, creative and he could spell well-without spell check. We agreed that he would pick me up from work that evening. Well, I must tell you the minute I saw him, the deal was sealed. We spent the next 4 evenings together and then he had to return home.

THIS time, we were not only writing but were also calling each other. MEGA phone bills. But they were worth it. Our letters and conversations quickly turned into something more. We were falling in love and we were both thrilled. He came home on leave on December 21st and proposed! Imagine that-4 dates and a proposal!!! We were married that March and he quickly went overseas to Germany where I followed 3 months later. Now, when we were first married, he stayed in Florida where he was attending school for his MOS, and I was in the middle of my second semester of school. We didn't live together-we couldn't. It was hard. Actually, we were separated our first 5 months of marriage except for a few weekends that we could manage to either meet halfway or one of us could make the entire trip from Central Illinois to Florida. Being married and not being able to live together was H A R D.

He worked like a dog to get me to Germany in record time. I remember that as I was coming off the plane in Munich, I just kept murmuring to myself, "I hope I remember what he looks like!" Can you imagine? A short 2 weeks later, I was pregnant with our first child! We were thrilled! Our years in Germany were fantastic for us. We learned a lot about each other as we only had each other. No running to friends to cry. No calling parents. It was just us.

Since that time, we have had 3 more children, he completed his tour, finished Bible College, and we have had several ministries and moves. Somewhere along the line we quit working on us. Instead, we were busy working on our children, other people and our ministries.

I can honestly tell you that after he finished college and started his first full time ministry position, I felt like a single mom. I was VERY lonely. So, I threw myself into our kids. I really did enjoy every second of it but each and every day I was growing in resentment. I truly felt as though I was 2nd or 3rd on the priority list. I think the youth sponsors spent more time with him that I did. BUT, I felt that I was just being selfish and so I locked the feelings inside. It is impossible to pretend in a marriage. Period. But for whatever reason, we just continued to ignore our difficulties. I think we had problems in just about every area except what our roles were and the fact that we agreed that we wanted a God centered marriage. That sounds noble, doesn't it.

Truthfully, I felt that my feelings were invalid for some reason. Like I had no right to feel them because he was working hard in THE MINISTRY for crying out loud. I was married to a minister, how could I complain? I am sure that I was insensitive and probably critical.

Some days I felt like I was going to explode. The resentment and jealousy was really growing. I kept cramming everything inside and threw myself into the kids even more. I felt like he had no right to "ask" for anything-if you know what I mean. REALLY REALLY dumb on my part. I just sort of checked out emotionally during times of intimacy and just wanted to get it over with.

Things continued like that for a while, until unforeseen circumstances threw us into a job change and a major move. The two years that followed were times of deep depression for my hubby. I was such a jerk during that time. Not sensitive at all. But again, we had a new baby and I was completely preoccupied.

Over the next few years we had more moves and I was beginning to fall apart. I cried all the time. I was miserable. I wanted out, but not really. I just wanted to be happy, to laugh again-really laugh- with my husband. I had come to the point that I hated the ministry. It ALWAYS got the best of him and I felt that I got the left overs-the frustrations, hurt feelings, problems etc that were a result of the ministry. It felt like I was listening to him talk about problems with his mistress. I didn't want to hear it and the more I heard, the more I closed myself up and the more I cried.

Then one day it happened. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was angry...I went to our room to be alone. I was having it out with God and wondering why it had to be the way it was. He came in and asked what was wrong. He was angry. He felt like he didn't deserve to be treated the way I was treating. He was right-he didn't-at all.

Anyway, on that afternoon I unloaded EVERYTHING because I felt I no longer had anything to loose. I even told him that I had thought about leaving. That if things didn't change I wanted to. I had never let those words escape my lips, they just weren't an option, but I was desperate.

All I can say is that God was VERY merciful to us that day. We both cried and asked each other for forgiveness for the way we had treated each other. That day completely changed the course of our marriage. We suddenly realized the importance of protecting our relationship.

If you think everything was hunky dory after that you are sadly mistaken. Though I was finally able to be honest with Darin about most things, I wasn't honest about ALL things. Because of that, the I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and I just started fading. I felt like I was completely unworthy of being married to him. I was such an idiot. I spent nearly and hour daily crying. Very obvious that I was depressed, but I didn't want to get help to get out...that would prove just how week I was. I was such a mess!

When we moved to our current job and home, we finally decided together, that I should talk to my doctor. I was just in such a dark place and I felt like I couldn't climb out. Everything overwhelmed me. I wanted to disappear.

My doctor started me on an antidepressant and I can honestly say that within a week I felt like a completely different person. I laughed, responded to problems appropriately, and didn't feel completely helpless anymore.

We again were able to tackle some big problems together. We discovered that we each had some things we weren't honest with each other about. The awesome thing is that our problems were identical! We were full of grace for one another. I adore my husband, and I know that he adores me. We are looking forward to the rest of our lives together. I can honestly tell you that our marriage is better today than it ever has been.

God's timing is perfect. It really is. We have both grown and matured and have learned grace, compassion and empathy. I don't claim to understand the whys I just understand the how and the NOWS!

I hope some day he will share his side of our journey. I am just so thankful that I have today with him. He is perfect for me. Thank you Lord!

Boys and Play

2008-05-20T10:39:00.000-04:00

We moved into our home in November nearly 3 years ago. Part of the reason we chose this house was because of the neighborhood. It's fairly secluded, sidewalks, lots of streets, little traffic and WOODS in our backyard. Perfect for young BOYS. However, we quickly learned that most of the neighborhood families were the "park in the garage and go inside immediately" kind. We hardly ever even saw a single person.

My boys are ACTIVE and we want them outside as much as possible as to run, ride bikes, skate, scream, laugh and play. So we sent them outside and they were outside....alone....for several weeks.....

Then we noticed a change. Once other kids saw our boys, them came outside, too. They didn't want to miss out on the action. Our house quickly turned into THE house where the action was. Then winter hit. All the kids went back inside, Not our boys. We actually put COATS on them and sent them out to play. They honestly played outside the whole winter by themselves. SAD.

Spring and summer have come again and we noticed a big change. This year there are about twice as many kids outside. My boys are outside from about 8am until it's dark. Sometimes later if the 2 oldest get in on the action with some serious Ghost or Flashlight Tag.

I don't know if it is that the parents have lightened up as most parents are extremely fearful of the dangers outside-so fearful that they just keep their kids inside, or if the kids just WANT to be outside. Probably both. Maybe I am too lax about letting them be outside all day, but I don't want them to be so fearful that that miss, what I consider to be, the best part of childhood. Free outside play helps develop the imagination, teaches them to play well in groups, and it teaches them responsibility. We have taught them to be careful, they check in frequently, I check on them frequently, and they have definite rules that must be followed. Let me tell ya, my boys are happy, sleeping great, imaginative, tanned, and healthy as can be.

We are so glad to see the trend in the neighborhood change. Kids outside instead of inside playing video games and watching tv. Hey, we've actually even seen a few adults now!

Post Number 1

2008-04-23T11:44:00.000-04:00

Okay, so it's time to start blogging again. Not sure why...not sure what about...but you know what? Our family is pretty darn fun and funny....and I need to remind myself of that from time to time...but then,don't we all?

hope you'll check back....

scooting out of here for now...